#sheseven

Your love is a settler

My love is a nomad

A wish upon the land we had

could never bring me back

For settlers create crooked lines across a free land

Nomads cross the cooked lines one crooked foot at a time

I tire of the run

you comfort of the seat

war is a cowards game

we fight to be more than meek

we spit a lot and call it rain

wash love with words time and time again

control me with your feet

your tongue is bell and whistle

Show me what you're made of

less praying hands and doves

more hi-fives and shrugs

As soon as I agree to settle

you agree to move

the crooked lines cross

we get lost in the groove

spit on yesterday

rain forecasted through our tomorrows

down the stream our love floats

we watch and wave it goodbye

strength is measured by your strongest pain

muscles favor routine

rip, repair, growth, strength

no rip, no repair

no growth, no strength

no repair, no growth

no rip, no strength

repair, growth, strength, rip

more repair, more rip

more growth, more strength

more strength, more rip

more repair, more growth

once the cycle stops, I die.

Roses are blood shade

Violets are rose no air

walked into a spider web.

wondered "where is he?"

repeatedly wiped my face, arms, and hair.

figured, since the porch light is on,

He is probably entangling somebody else's home

his tentacles outstretched some woman's hair

Finding a resting place in the corner of her room

going about the business of leaving traces of confusion

I fight thin air In fear that he is hidden in some crevasse I wasn't aware I owned.

It takes a while to conclude that the spider really isn't stuck to you.

Garment checking feels silly

after you realize you're alone.

maybe she is a spider too

the aforementioned "her" 

must be like him in order to walk into his web and allow him to crawl so close.

But who knows 

maybe I was a spider at some point.

an eight legged, web spitting, corner of the room occupying creeper

who has some man fighting thin air on the other side of town

Maybe walking into spider webs isn't coincidence

love is perceived as a cover for all things. 

a delicacy we handle with two hands

too big to spread alone

too small to require two handlers

20 fingers

too many to grip reality

tug of impressions

scars of war

she and I occupy space when the bed feels bare

is it so wrong to want love when you want it?

manage it in commitment pieces.

mine is bed in a bag love

unzip me love

take me out of me love

spread me thin

admire my quilting

warm you some love

I hug until you dirty me

dragged, 

washed, 

folded, 

closeted,

pulled,

torn, 

cherished, 

kept, 

1. Nothing, no thing. I don't move. I don't think about anything other than the pain.

2. I go to straight to my room like it's the move on a monopoly board.

3. I hop on my bed and wonder why the hell did I need a bed so high and so fluffy in the first place.

4. I stare at the floor, it's a long way down, it's the safest ledge to jump from bc I was taught that suicide means you automatically go to hell and I don't want to kill myself for real I just want to simulate it. 

5. I decide not to jump to the floor bc that would just be stupid.

6. I swing my feet back and forth like a little kid and wonder why do I like these shoes so much.

7. I blame my pain on the shoes. I should have never walked into his house. Should have never got comfy enough to take my shoes off. should have kept my shoes on.

8. I question my shoes. What made you trust him? my shoes shout back "he's your boyfriend!" 

9. I kick the shoes off the ledge. Watch them fall to the carpet.

10. Now that my shoes are dead I have to blame something. My clothes are soiled with disbelief or tears or sweat or left over orgasm.

I just wanted to watch a movie tonight.

he just wanted to watch me

We committed to being something

sex was cool the times before

but I just wanted to watch a movie tonight

if I choose a movie over him

patriarchy will lead to losing my leading role

girls gotta know how to keep the director happy

ACTION

I stared at the TV over his shoulder 

trying to please us both

11. I grab the remote to the TV

12. lay back on my bed

So (most of my blogs begin with the word "so") I am very self reflective almost to a fault. I self reflect to the point where all I see is myself and that is not good. What I mean by that is I am starting to learn that there is a such thing as over analyzing yourself until you are no longer yourself. After being called "aggressive," after being told my energy is weird, after being shut out by certain circles in a very "subliminal, but I noticed that shit" kinda way I started it again. "IT" = the detrimental self reflection which turns into self sabotage.

While at the National Poetry Slam I had a chance to bond with Yaya. I'm sure she doesn't know this but the time that we took to get to know each other changed my life. It changed my view on a lot of things including all of the self reflection I had been doing. When I returned I had a Tarot reading and a familiar card was turned..."The Hermit." This card was also in a previous reading of mine. I finally figured out what it means to me! I would love to be able to clearly write to the world what it means but at the moment I need more time to put it in words. I will say that I realized that I am a visionary. I am the one with the thousand and one ideas and no real concept of how to fit the details into the puzzle, however, up until this point I had been trying to be both. I was trying to have the vision, write the vision, and act out the vision. THIS IS ALL WRONG! In the weeks to come I plan to be more supportive of poets, venues, and art in general. I plan to fade into the background and let others (those interested of course) help me put my vision into action. 

This whole "independent woman" thing is bull shit especially when for some of us independence is life not a goal attained through getting a job and buying our own car. I have to learn to open myself up to being helped. That's the issue....I need help and I don't know how to ask or what to ask for because I just never thought to ask. Ok, reflection, this is not so much about self but about how self relates to others.

Pura Vida,